Noel: But I find that true in all those old. . . those cabins. Wilma and I found a cabin that was completely furnished. I mean, the bed springs were there, the stove was there. The coffee cans were there, ah. . . I mean, it was furnished.
BH: What's your theory on why? You think they died, and it just got left there?
Noel: Just disgust.
BH: Or did they just take off?
Noel: Yeah. Just disgust. I've had it with this place. This is dirt poor. I'm gone. You know, and. . . and the thing about. . . the thing about this. . . the San Luis Valley, there are plenty of cabins to be catalogued yet. In fact, Wilma and I found a cabin. . . a cabin last year that had st. . . had bullet holes in it. Boy, what kind of story would that be?
BH: Be an interesting. . .
Noel: Big bullet holes—I mean thirty caliber, right next to the door.
BH: In the Sangre de Cristos, or. . .
Noel: Yeah. No. Up there (points west).
BH: In the San Juans?
Noel: Yeah. And there's more. But the problem is that they're out in meadows and fields, and the cows have all trampled away the good stuff, so to speak. The human. . . well, each cabin has a human. . . each cabin has a story. But ah. . . basically that's how it is. If you want to know something about nineteenth century diets, you need to get a book called Bacon, Beans, and Guillotines. Bacon, Beans, and Guillotines.